Please Remember
by HarrySavesMe
Summary: After Angel learns of Buffy's death, we never get to see the events that directly follow. This is Angel's reaction...to the news.


Chapter 1: Break

Green eyes. Sparkling In the dim light and on both sides soft red hair falling in wispy strands, shorter than he remembered, but that was so long ago. He was unable to keep moving and his joy quickly melted from his thoughts. It was now so far gone it was hard to remember why he was happy. Life turns on a dime. He froze in the doorway and felt Cordy stop too on his right. He heard her voice like it was coming from above water; distorted.

"What...?" she said. Somehow he forced his stone jaw to move. He couldn't find out but couldn't go on not knowing.

"Willow?" He said checking to make sure this wasn't a hallucination. He would've done anything to be crazy in this moment, to have it not be real...anything. He'd always known what this would mean. He lived it in nightmares, always waking in desperation and realizing with slow dawning relief that it wasn't real. His nightmares were frequent in the month following his departure from Sunnydale. Every morning he would argue with himself over two truths he struggled with: she was better without him; she was safer with him. Every nightmare was the same and different. Always she died, but in so many different ways.

The painful nightmares ended with her dying while he was there with her. His goodbyes on his lips and waking with moisture in his eyes. The unbearable ones ended exactly like this. Finding out she was dead when he could've been there. Usually Giles told him, sometimes Xander. Once Willow did. With no words and only green eyes. She blinked staring at him with the same eyes. Was he awake? He felt like he was frozen in these thoughts forever, but in reality it must've only been moments. He forced his dead jaw to move again, saying the words that broke the spell. He knew he was awake and he knew that she was not and never would return.  
"It's Buffy." -

There were some days he felt more human than others. The demon days generally consisted of blood bags in the fridge, blank mirrors, and hiding from the sun. Other times he seemed so human. When he tired, he slept. When cut, he bled. When he lost the love of his life, he could really feel his soul..just in time to wish he hadn't. A moment of this gripped him when she didn't deny it. It pressed on him like a heavy weight. But it didn't last long before he saw black.

He came to in his bedroom, his head felt heavy. He felt stiff. He must've been out for a little while. Was it a nightmare? He begged the powers that be to make it so. Then he turned his head and saw Willow sitting in a chair, staring at the ceiling. A knife-like pain seared in his chest and he couldn't speak. His throat was dry and tight. She must have heard him stir because she looked at him. He thought his suffering made him old; made him feel like the ancient man he really was behind the immortal face. Willow was just a child compared to him...like Buffy...was. Yet she looked old now too; old with tired eyes. They were so weary; she knew pain. Her best friend was dead. His only true love was dead.

It almost killed him to leave her. It was like a steel cable connected them and he had severed it after many painful blows, when all he wanted to do was hold on. He convinced her to let him go, something harder, because a part of him wanted her to never except it. To fight for him with everything she had. Not dutifully and stoically accept the ending he forced on her. But..it had to be. If you really love someone, you set them free...to the light. He was perpetual darkness.

When he walked away after graduation, he held his head high. He tried to be brave for her. But he cried the whole way home. He cried that night before the car arrived to take him to LA. All he ever wanted was precisely what he could never have. Eventually the tears dried, and he buried himself in work. Anything to distract him from the pain he had held in for months. It had never faded but he was able to become stronger at bearing it. Eventually he just couldn't cry; the pain had altered everything. He told himself she was better off without him. It was the thought he had every time he woke from those nightmares. It helped. Never did he think he would ever disagree with that truth...that she was better off. But if she, Buffy was dead...could he have saved her if he stayed? The thought seemed to break him, like a single rock shattering a giant glass window. Leaving her nearly killed him. When she left him forever, it destroyed him.

"Oh god..." He murmured. It didn't sound like words. Willow stood up, coming closer. Did she understand him?  
"Please...no," he moaned. He suddenly felt like a child, not ancient. Children cried and they were weak. Now he was so...again. He gasped and felt the hot tears slice down his cheeks. The first in months, and they hurt. His forehead throbbed. His eyes felt like a dam, holding back water.  
"Oh Angel..." Willow whispered. He looked away; he didn't want her to see him come apart. He felt younger than her and she was only a child. She was there comforting him. His breathing was difficult, punctuated by sobs.  
"Angel I'm so sorry," she said tears in her voice. She clutched his trembling shoulder.  
"Tell me she's not..." he wept."Willow, tell me." She sat on his bed and he sat up as she pulled him into a hug. He folded into her, resting his throbbing head on her warm shoulder. Holding Willow was now the closest thing to actually holding Buffy. She was so close to her in life. Buffy loved Willow, so Angel loved Willow. She was the only other person who really understood his pain. She loved Buffy too, longer than Xander or Dawn. He himself loved her at first sight, months before she even knew he existed. His tears soaked into Willow's shirt and he heard Buffy say his name in his head.  
"Angel." He sucked in a breath and felt like he choked on it. Willow clutched the back of his shirt and let him break. In a few minutes, or was it hours...he heard her whisper to him.  
"Shh...I know" it somehow hurt more, knowing he was incapable of acting the adult in this bitter moment. He also knew he needed it, that he wanted her comfort so badly. He almost believed it was Buffy. "I'm sorry Angel" she said again, and she was Willow again...not Buffy. He pulled away.  
"W..Willow," he said wiping his swollen eyes on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, I should have..." He broke off, not really knowing what he was going to say.  
"No Angel, it's okay..." she said eyes sparkling. "I know how much you love her." Another tear fell down his face. He dabbed it away. He didn't know what to say next, he couldn't summon words. She filled the silence. She didn't explain her death in detail, only saying she did it to save Dawn...and the world...and that the funeral was in two days. "It's at sunset so you can go," she said softly. "If you can't, we understand." He met her gaze with watery eyes. "Really we do, and so would she..." she said her face pained. Angel cleared his throat.  
"I. I'll let you know," he said. He couldn't decide now. He couldn't even think.  
"Spike will be there, he cares for her," she said. "I just thought you should know."  
"Okay." He said without emotion. He took her hand in his cold one. "Thank you Willow, for everything, for coming to see me." She could have just never told him. Instead she came to tell him in person and supported him when he broke. She nodded then her eyes filled with emotion. She didn't release his hand.  
"It isn't your fault Angel. You couldn't have done anything." He clenched his eyes shut painfully. "None of us could. We tried, and I'm sorry I couldn't..." she trailed off. He opened his eyes to look at her again. Then he kissed her hand. She knew he didn't blame her without any words. She smiled a wan smile then stood up. "I'll talk to you soon..." She said. He nodded. Then she turned and walked out, he let her hand slip through his frozen fingers. He watched her retreating form, then his eyes caught a gleam of green on his dresser; a potion bottle he had never seen before. With a great effort, he staggered from his bed and walked to the dresser. Under the fragile bottle was a note.

Angel,

I know it could never replace the time you had with her, but this potion will help you find closure, if you choose to drink it. You can see her one last time and say goodbye. Remember it is only a temporary simulation. It will only work once, so choose carefully. As always I wish you the best and take care.

-Willow 


End file.
